Chapter Thirty One:

The next two days were a peculiar mix of following leads, and following the trails of Hollows which appeared and disappeared too quickly for them to ever lay eyes on them. As much as Urahara checked the denreishinki and tried to find out if there was something wrong with it, for all intents and purposes it appeared to be in full functioning order.

It was as confusing as it was infuriating to keep being called out to deal with Hollows, only to have them dealt with before they reached them, with no apparent explanation for why it was happening or who was the cause. Byakuya had even checked with Soul Society and confirmed that they were only two official Shinigami in the town at the time, excluding Yoruichi and Urahara.

For the two days that had passed, Ichigo was constantly aware of eyes on him no matter where he went, whether he was in his Gigai or not they were still on him. It was uneasy feeling, only made worse by the fact Byakuya continuously sensed it after him rather than before, sometimes up to ten minutes after at a push.

So far, the leads Urahara and Yoruichi had managed to give him were dead ends, but then, he wasn't really sure what he was looking for. It didn't help that he had the constant feeling that the blond man knew a little more than what he was letting on, but no amount of pressing the matter would get him to suggest anything other than what he'd already given him.

It was with his current feelings of irritation that Ichigo was walking around the town alone, not wanting to take his foul mood out on Byakuya, despite the man's understanding. He sighed heavily, shoving his hands into the pockets of the jeans his Gigai was wearing, there was something oddly comforting about the World of the Living clothes he had, almost as if they were something he would have chosen for himself if he had remained in that world.

He looked out across the houses as he began to descend downhill, having a brilliant view of almost the whole territory, even if it was only for a brief moment before the overlapping trees and hedges obscured it from his sight.

The people were friendly enough, though he heard a spattering of surprised comments about his hair colour, it wasn't something he was unfamiliar with so it didn't bother him. His feet froze in place as he felt the most out of place sensation run though him, it was nervousness and yet it wasn't his own.

"Shiro?" He frowned, finding himself unable to move.

"On yer right." Was the only reply he got from the Hollow.

Indulging him, he turned his head, eyebrows furrowing as he saw a memorial garden situated between two other houses. If he hadn't been told to look there he almost would have missed it completely. Finding his feet, he trudged over, slipping through the small metal gate as curiosity took over.

There was a magnitude of brilliantly coloured flowers splaying in an organised chaos of pollen and petals, bushes were neatly trimmed back and the grass seemed to have been recently mowed. There was a bench towards the back of the garden, oak with a metal frame and a plaque on the backrest.

His body seemed to stop as the world slowed around him, his heart pumping all the faster as his eyes glanced over the small metal plaque, the words flying off to meet him.

'In loving memory of the Kurosaki family.'

He felt sick. He could taste bile on the back of his tongue and clenched his teeth, swallowing hard in an effort not to give into the feeling. Allowing his shoulders to slump, he reached out and brushed his fingers against the cold metal.

"This is where the house was, huh?" He murmured to himself, "I guess it makes sense that they'd rip it down. No one would want to live there."

"Are you alright?"

The soft voice which came from behind him startled Ichigo; he turned on the spot, staring with wide eyes at the person who had managed to sneak up on him so easily. It was a woman. She was quite petite, yet curvaceous and at least six inches shorter than him, with incredibly long burnt orange hair which was brushed over her shoulders out of the way of warm brown eyes that were currently filled with about as much shock as he'd ever seen someone experience.

"K-Kurosaki-kun?" Her voice squeaked as her eyes began to well up with fat tears, "Is... Is it really you? Kurosaki-kun?"

He gulped, staring at her in hopes that he might suddenly realise why she was crying and why she knew his name. He winced as he was blinded by the reflection of light which bounced off the blue hairpins in her locks and the wind was knocked from his lungs in one fell swoop, "I-Inoue? Orihime Inoue?"

The barrage of memories that flickered across his vision almost made him keel over, flashes and seconds of details, moments embedded somewhere deep in his mind. Her hair had been shorter, far shorter, cut above her shoulders by bullies who'd disliked her for her differences, it was a feeling he knew well. Her brother dying suddenly, leaving her alone in the world, his last gift to her, the blue hairpins she wore so proudly every single day, never removing them even when she slept.

"I thought you were dead!" She was in his arms, clinging onto him like he was the only thing keeping her from flying away into the sky, her sobs so hard that she shook with each one, her tears soaking his shirt.

He hesitantly rested his hands on her shoulders, trying to be as comforting as he could despite the torrent of emotions he was being struck with as well, "I... I'm not dead." He muttered dumbly, it wasn't exactly a lie.

"W-Where have you been? It's been such a long time! Y-You just disappeared... T-That night... No one knew where you'd gone... T-They couldn't find you..." She was hiccuping now, fists balled tightly in his clothes.

"I..." He had no idea what he was meant to say, the truth was an impossible option, so perhaps the lesser of two evils, "I was taken away. By the person who... Caused it."

"How awful!" She looked up at him, her eyes red and puffy, "You've been gone such a long time... Kurosaki-kun... How did you get away from them? How did you get back? Are you... Alright now?"

If he was annoyed by the rambled questions he didn't show it, smiling weakly at her, "It's a complicated story. I... Lost my memories, I had no idea how to get back here. But... I'm doing better. It's a slow process I guess? I'm still missing a lot."

Orihime looked horrified, biting her bottom lip to stop it shaking, "I'm so sorry! It must have been awful... Maybe if we had looked harder... Maybe..." She trailed off, when she spoke again her voice was barely above a whisper, "I'm so glad you're okay."

"Don't blame yourself, there was nothing you could have done. You were just a kid." He wiped the tears from her face with a tenderness he usually reserved only for Byakuya's company, but the woman in front of him was fragile, "You look amazing, by the way. I can't believe how much you've grown up."

She pulled back slowly, tucking some loose hair behind her ear, blushing faintly, "Heh, thank you. I can't get over you though, Kurosaki-kun... You've grown up but... You still look young. You must tell me your secret at some point, I'd give just about anything to stop the wrinkles showing."

Ichigo faltered at her comment, she was right. He hadn't aged the same as she had, Soul Society worked differently. It would take him centuries to look even close to her age, by which time she would be in Soul Society herself. It was a sobering thought.

"I have to head home, dinner won't make itself and the kids will complain about it," Orihime rolled her eyes exaggeratedly, "Maybe we can catch up again this week if you're... Sticking around?"

He felt his mouth go dry as she mentioned children, she had a family of her own now, he found himself nodding, "I would... Like that very much. Thanks."

Her smile was brighter than her hair as she hastily scribbled down her phone number and shoved it into his hand, "Call me when you're free and we can meet up! It was so good to see you, Kurosaki-kun!"

The dumbstruck man watched her run off down the street, her smile practically glowing as if all the weight of the world had suddenly been removed from her shoulders. He looked down at the scrap of paper in his hands and felt a knot lessen slightly in his chest. He had an actual starting point. Someone he could talk to, someone who knew him, knew his past.

Eager to share his good fortune, he ran back towards Urahara's store as fast as his legs would carry him, pausing outside of the park to catch his breath. He leaned forwards, resting his hands on his knees as he sucked in deep lungfuls of air.

"Duck!" Shiro's voice came from within the silence and he felt his body bend against his will as the Hollow took momentary control.

"What the-" He spluttered, voice cut off as a large fist flew over his head. Had he been stood straight it would have made contact.

"Roll!" His body moved again, narrowly avoiding a foot which was aimed at his spine.

Diving forwards, he skidding across the tarmac, flipping around to face his attacker, eyes widening as he came face to face with the huge Arrancar he'd injured during his last visit to the town. There was a wide grin on the colossal man's face as he thumped his huge fists together.

Clenching his teeth, Ichigo grabbed his Gikon from his back pocket, swallowing the pill quickly. His Shinigami form burst forwards, sword already in hand as he instructed his Gigai to report back to Urahara's store and let them know what was happening.

"So, one ass beating wasn't enough for you, Arrancar?" He asked, holding his sword aloft.

"Thought I'd return the favour." His voice was deep.

"You're gonna be disappointed." Ichigo smirked, "Getsuga Tenshou!"

The arc of energy flew towards the Arrancar, but it was only ever meant as a distraction as Ichigo weaved his way in and out of Shunpo, getting closer and closer, shooting up behind the big man and carving his blade towards the back of his neck.

His eyes widened as the Arrancar turned, knocking aside his Getsuga Tenshou with one hand, while the other wrapped around the blade of his Zanpakutō and stopped him in his tracks. His back arched as a fist connected with his gut and he was tossed like a ragdoll, hitting the ground hard, hissing as his hands were scuffed as he brought himself to a stop.

"You won't get the drop on me again, Shinigami!" The Arrancar was laughing, it was a deep, booming laughter, "I can't work out why Aizen-sama wants you so badly."

Flinching, Ichigo's body tensed at his words. Aizen still wanted him? Even now?

A fist connected with his face and snapped his head around, he bit his tongue and tasted warm metallic liquid as it flooded his mouth. Ichigo let out a groan as he hit the floor again, harder than the first time, his cheek singed by some energy he hadn't seen, he didn't have time to consider what it was as the giant Arrancar stomped on his chest, seemingly pushing all his weight behind it.

"Switch places!"

"No!" He grunted as the heel of the foot twisted sharply in his ribs, "We can't risk you rampaging through the town!"

"I'll never rampage again if ya die!"

Not for the first time, Ichigo found himself wishing he could use Kidō, but it was something which had always evaded him no matter how hard his tutors, or Aizen, had tried to teach him. He had always assumed it was to do with his poor capabilities at controlling his own reiatsu.

"If ya don't stop overthinkin' things, I'll take control by force." Shiro's voice was low and angry, "Now do as I fuckin' say! Aibou!"

Ichigo faltered as he listened to him, slowly lifting his hand and flexing his fingers, blackness seeped into his sclera as he felt the icy contact of Shiro's hand resting over his, guiding him with a surety that was most unfamiliar from the Hollow.

The moment his eyes glinted with gold, a swirling crimson orb began burning in his outstretched palm, growing larger and larger before it fired, striking the Arrancar in the face and hurling him backwards.

The strawberry felt Shiro step back, relinquishing that momentary hold on him willingly, he was grateful. Lurching to his feet, the Shinigami rubbed his chest, already feeling bruises forming under his shihakusho. He glanced down at his hand, there were faint scorch marks against his skin.

"A Cero? From a Shinigami?" The Arrancar's voice was hoarse as he appeared in front of him again, blood dripping down his face, "Maybe there is more to you than meets the eye."

"Thanks for your consideration." He growled, lifting his Zanpakutō again, "You have a name, Arrancar?"

"Yammy Llargo, Décimo Espada."

"Espada?" The strawberry repeated in confusion, "What the fuck is an Espada?"

The Arrancar, Yammy, smirked while wiping blood from his cheek, "Aizen-sama's elite commanders."

Sucking in a sharp breath, he considered the idea that Aizen had an army growing in Hueco Mundo, he remembered the stories. The long hours of Aizen's plans to ascend to the Hollow home world, to grow an army of powerful warriors who were both Hollow and Shinigami, now it was becoming a reality.

"Then, for the sake of saving this town, I cannot let you live." His fingers tightened around the hilt of his blade, teeth clenched tightly, "I will send you back there in pieces!"

He let out a roar, raising his reiatsu as far as he could manage, pushing it out with the force of an untamed beast, shooting forwards in the blink of an eye as he brought Zangetsu around in an arc, leaving it to the very last second before he released another blast of Getsuga Tenshou, screaming as he pushed all his weight and all his power behind the blast, forcing it forwards as he saw Yammy lift a hand to bat it aside.

"Not this time!" He growled, pushing harder still. He felt sweat running down his face as Shiro's presence tingled around the edges of his vision, adding to his forcefulness and tingeing the Getsuga Tenshou with a menacing black and gold swirl.

He felt the resistance pressing back against him falter and he fell forwards, crashing to the ground as he heard a scream of pain; he raised his head shakily, barely flinching as he was sprayed by blood, one of Yammy's thick arms slamming to the floor beside him, severed at the shoulder.

Eyes flashing as he saw the Arrancar, no, the Espada reaching for the sword which was at his side, he simply knew he had to stop him drawing it. There was a fuzzy instinctual sensation running through him which said that if the Hollow drew that sword it would be over before it had begun.

"Switch!"

"What?!"

Shiro sounded more surprised than Ichigo was at the sudden demand, and yet he felt the immediate surge of power as his Hollow stepped forwards to take charge, vision flickering black and gold.

It was a strange feeling, as if he was sat watching someone else use his body and control his movements. Shiro was fast, faster than he was, more precise and hesitated far less to think about what he was doing. That was the power of instinct. Each strike, swipe and stab of their Zanpakutō cleaved flesh from bone.

Zangetsu was being spun, whirled around by the bandages which usually formed its sheath, movements fast and unreadable, it was thrown without warning, striking the Espada in the chest and impaling deeply, only to be ripped back out with the same brutal force, shaving the Hollow's other hand off in the process.

Tutting as he slung the weight of Zangetsu over his shoulder, Ichigo felt his hand raise and another Cero charged in his palm, growing larger than the first and firing mercilessly. The howl of pain he heard was jarring, but it was followed by silence.

"There, ya happy now?"

"I mean... Kind of."

Ichigo shuddered as Shiro backed off, again grateful that his Hollow was being more agreeable, and less inclined to maintain control of his body when it was given. He walked forwards, striding closer to the crumpled form of Yammy.

He came to a stop near his head, raising an eyebrow as he saw he was still breathing, "My, my, you must be stronger than you look. That last blow was meant to kill you."

"Bastard." Was the raspy reply.

"Oh you have no idea." He smirked, holding Zangetsu out, blade pointing downwards, "Send Aizen my regards."

The squelch of his Zanpakutō sliding through skin, skull and brain matter was a little disturbing, and yet it brought a dark sense of satisfaction to the forefront of his mind as well. Maybe Shiro's influence was a little more lingering than he'd first realised.

Scowling as he noticed a faint splodge of blackness peeking out from under the white shihakusho the Espada had been wearing, Ichigo crouched down and and yanked the cloth aside, his frown deepening as he cast his eyes over the Gothic number ten.

"So that's what you meant by 'Décimo Espada'." He murmured.

Ichigo's back stiffened as a hazy memory came to life in the back of his head, it was uncomfortable and hard to focus on, mostly due to Shiro having been in control at the time. Then it hit him. Grimmjow had been adorned with a number as well, hadn't he?

"Kurosaki-san!" Urahara's voice broke him from his thoughts, "What the..."

Lifting his gaze, he blinked softly, seeing the blond running over with Byakuya at his side, "I'm fine." He said as he stood up, glancing down as a slick sound caught his attention and Yammy's body disintegrated, "Tch."

"That was one of the Arrancar from before." Byakuya noted, eyes washing over the strawberry as he noticed the injuries he had been afflicted with, "What happened?"

Sheathing Zangetsu, he sighed, checking himself over as well, "He attacked me when I was heading back to the store. Apparently, he was still pissed that I beat him last time."

"You defeated a fully formed Arrancar... Alone?" Urahara asked, holding onto his hat lightly.

"No." He stated simply, "Shiro helped. We defeated him together."

"That is... Impressive nonetheless," the blond ex-Taichou breathed, "You appeared troubled when we arrived, did you discover something?"

The hairs on his arms prickled slightly and he twitched, fighting the urge to look behind him, "Not here." He said simply, sensing eyes on him from the shadows.

The two older Shinigami glanced at each other, neither having sensed the faint presence nearby until the strawberry had, they nodded and headed back to the store with a flicker of Shunpo, completely missing the emerald green eyes which drew closer in their absence.